Batman Begins/Dark Knight 1. Chapter 1

It was a cold, fearsome day in Gotham.

Bane had just set free all the criminals from Blackgate to "reclaim" the city.

Middle and lower class locals were forced to retreat into their homes while the upper class was stripped of their bearings for reasons beyond her belief. _Beyond my comprehension._ On the television, she watched as the masked villain Bane had said the inmates would 'take back what was theirs."

_Whatever that means._

It was times like these Genevieve hated living in Gotham. There was always some villain, always some super hero. There was always so much corruption which made it all worse and she was never sure who she should trust while on her own in a city this big; full of so many dirty people. And now, to make it all much more devastating, they were being taken over by a random terrorist.

Thankfully though, she had her… _extra senses_ helping her out with her trust issues every once in a while.

"Why is this city always under attack by one thing or another this comical?" she asked out loud to no one in particular.

"_Meow."_

Genevieve looked down just in time to see her black cat strut lazily over to her and rub herself on her legs.

"Hello Isis." The girl smiled patting the empty spot on the couch next to her.

Isis complied and jumped up on the couch and curled herself up against the backrest. Genevieve scratched her cat's head for a moment before turning her attention back to the television. Bane kept on and on with a long speech.

It was making her head hurt and she had to turn the damn thing off.

What she needed was coffee, and quick.

Ever since the city started to become under attack a few days ago, a lot of businesses closed and it was risky to try and leave your home for any reason. There were armed men out there. Armed and dangerous men. Rapists, serial killers, abusers, she couldn't fathom the list that went on and on and was she going to risk being captured by one of them for a simple cup of caffeine?

_Yes._

Because she ran out.

And she was a fiend.

And desperate.

Not to mention she ran out two days ago and the longest she usually went without a cup was the few hours she slept away each day.

There had to be a goddamn open store with coffee somewhere near her. She was so close to the Narrows that any of those men wouldn't even think about coming to such a poor place. She wasn't poor; she had a good amount of money saved up within the last few years to take care of herself and her baby in this one room apartment.

Now with terrorist in town, not only was she losing out on her caffeine, she would lose out on her money.

_Another thing to worry about._

"Fuck." She breathed.

As soon as Genevieve was conscious about herself and her life and the life of those around her she knew she was different. She could feel what other people were feeling; like an empath. She could actually_ see_ some people's auras with her own eyes just radiating around them like a soft glow. Other times it was in her mind. A soft blue color if someone was unwell, a bright orange if they were aroused or in lust for someone, even red if someone was angry. It was the strangest thing and she always knew. Her father and stepmother never knew what to make of it.

And then at the age of twelve, she started reading palms. When she told her stepmother she wouldn't have a long life and would die at a young age that was the last the woman had of her. She wanted to get rid of the child if it was the last thing she did. Her father was always too busy with his business to be around. But Genevieve was also tired of her wicked stepmother and her bright green and purple glows. It was nauseating.

At the age of fifteen, she started charging people when they wanted her to read cards to them.

Most of them were easy because people she knew were dumb enough to come to her. She knew a lot of things about a lot of people because she was observant. But it surprised her when some things would actually come to her. And she knew this was something she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

Most situations she was in were positive ones and word got around the street.

Older men started to come to her to ask about their businesses and what the winning lottery numbers would be.

Those she was so done with.

She was given a gift and she wasn't going to let it go to waste.

Slowly over the years it became her steady income, along with the job she had at a vintage boutique downtown after she was kicked out at seventeen.

Now she was out of both.

"Time to go hunt out some customers and coffee. I'll be back Isis, be good." She scratched the cat's ears and she meowed in annoyance from having been disturbed in rest.

Grabbing a black peacoat and her boots, she buttoned up and laced up before locking up her apartment and making her way downstairs from the third floor. She skipped the elevator because it was old as hell and didn't function properly most of the time.

The apartment manager, Mr. Edward Franklin, a man in his mid-40's who never fussed about much and always reminded his tenants pay on time was nowhere to be seen. Usually perched out front by the desk, she noticed there wasn't even a peep from the door behind it. Trying to ignore that fact, she simply took a deep breath walked out of the building. It was unusually and eerily quiet now. Just a few blocks down, The Narrows were also quiet. No one bothered to want to be out at a time like this. It was complete chaos. The snow was just starting to fall which made people want to come out even less. She felt like the only person in the world at the moment. With a sigh, she stood on the sidewalk.

If she went left, she'd have a bigger chance of running into a criminal. If she went right, she'd go straight towards The Narrows with no chance at finding much of anything. She _should_ go back inside to her warm, cozy apartment though. But, she decided to go right. There was a corner shop owned by a nice Indian man in his 30's not too far away and hopefully it would be open today. He was always open. On Christmas, on Easter, on 4th of July; there wasn't a time he was closed. The man knew money was the anthem of success. And good for him too, God Bless he was open.

It had taken her a few extra minutes to reach it since it was so chilly and her bones were stiff but she made it and noticed the note on the door. It read: 'Beat it.'

_Smart man indeed._

She beat on the door.

A minute later, the door unlocked and she saw the familiar brown face of Iben.

"Hello miss Gen, come quickly, come quickly." He said.

The door closed behind her and she didn't bother to shake off the snowflakes on her clothing. They were going to melt fast and she was going to be covered in more on her way back.

"How are you doing Iben?" she asked.

"Very good, very good. Just here, running my business as usual. Have you seen the news? The man thinks he can take our city down. I know not everyone will go down without a fight." He nodded and she mirrored his action.

There was a white glow around him at the moment, slightly grey. She knew he was at peace. He didn't let much get to him.

"I came by the way because I wanted to ask, you have coffee?"

Iben nodded, "Yes, for you, of course. Straight down, you know where to find it." He nodded once more before turning to pick up a basket to hand to her.

"Thank you." She smiled.

Walking towards the back of the small convenient store, she reached the cold freezers and noticed that the milk had expired. _Minus one point, Iben. _Sighing she turned away and went up the short aisle where she found the sugar, coffee, creamery, etc.

A loud bang made her jump slightly and she turned her head to see whom it could have been. All she could sense was blue, and red. Definitely red. It was a mixture of the two, also some green.

"_Yes sir, a pleasure as always. Long time no see."_ She heard Iben speak.

Picking up a couple of packs, she got sugar as well as a pack of water bottles and then took her now heavy basket with her to the front.

There was a tall man with dark almost if not black hair, dressed in a ratty looking suit and glasses perched on his bony looking nose. His suit, she might add, was dusty looking; the shoulder blades were ripped at the seams. His hair was slightly disheveled and his face was pale white.

_Most likely from the cold._

Because the tip of his nose was pink.

"Hi, pardon me." She said quietly.

The man gave her an odd look, raising an eyebrow. She noticed he had striking blue eyes. To be honest, he was handsome in a rugged way. Tall, dark and ruggedly handsome she mused. But his aura was throwing her off big time; it was all over the place. She had to know more.

"I'm Genevieve." She nodded.

"Pleasure." He said, not looking pleasured at all.

The Indian man was nowhere to be seen.

"Where did Iben go?" she asked.

"To retrieve a package." He said curtly.

Damn, she was feeling very light headed. She felt off. It was _him_ making her feel this way.

"Pardon my intrusion, but I… what is your name?" she asked, gripping tightly onto her basket.

"None of your concern." He said coldly.

"I need to know." She said, slightly more demanding and he stared at her for a moment.

"Jonathan." He answered.

_Jonathan, what a lovely name. What a troubled man. Tell me…_

"What is troubling you?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"It's all over your face," she pointed out. "I can sense it. God, I can sense it all right. There's something different about you, something I can't pinpoint like I usually do. What's wrong? Why am I sensing there's something you're afraid of? Angry about?" she pried and he took an involuntary step back.

"I don't know what game you're playing, but it's better that you back off, Genevieve." He said, slight venom in his deep quiet voice.

Iben returned with a box that clanked inside; glass. _Maybe alcohol? Yes, most likely alcohol._

"If you're ever alone, and you have the chance to talk, feel free to pay me a visit. There's definitely something more to you. I know it." She said, slipping her hand into her coat pocket and feeling around for her card. It was a simple business card with her address, no phone number.

Jonathan stared at her outreached hand and rolled his eyes before taking the card from her and the box from the man.

"I hope to see you return. Be well." Iben said as he respectfully put his hands together and bowed.

Jonathan turned on his heel and exited the shop as fast as he could.

"What a peculiar man." She thought aloud.

"Yes, yes. Mister is. Good man." He nodded, taking her items and ringing them up for her.

Good man…

Good man?

Genevieve wasn't too sure.

* * *

More to come ;) I hope this was a good start.

**Caution:** This story will deal with some drug usage, heavy drinking, maybe (haven't decided yet) graphic depiction of sex and some violence as well.

Not to sugar coat anything so you know what you will be dealing with with this story!


	2. Chapter 2

_Keep busy._

That's what Genevieve reminded herself every hour after she'd finish doing something.

Rearranging and reorganizing her closet, cleaning her bathroom, kitchen, and much to Isis' dismay, loudly vacuuming the small living room. It was already starting to get later in the evening, the sun had just set and now Genevieve wasn't sure what to do. She had done everything she could. To keep her mind off of what was happening out in the streets. It unsettled her. She headed to her room to pick up a small box of matches and as she got back to the living room, she lit the match and turned on a few scented candles around the room.

"Time for more coffee." She told herself.

Putting the last of her cleaning supplies away under the sink in the kitchen, she rummaged around her cupboards for a mug and set up her coffee machine. Being half Cuban, she craved the caffeine from coffee daily. She'd make Cuban coffee occasionally, which was pure black ground coffee and sugar, but tonight she felt like having some old fashioned American coffee. She picked up a book from her living room that she had stopped reading a few days ago and sat on the counter to wait as the water and coffee grounds brewed themselves together. The aroma filled the room and she smiled a little to herself.

Standing up, she poured some of the steaming liquid into a cup and reached into her fridge for the flavored creamer. Tonight she'd have hazelnut.

As she stirred in some sugar, she heard a knock at the door and her eyebrows furrowed.

Was she expecting anyone tonight?

Taking her spoon she tested her drink and nodded at how it tasted; perfect. She dropped the spoon in the sink before taking her mug and setting it on the coffee table. She stepped forward towards the door and looked through the peek-hole. _Oh shit. _It was the man from earlier today. She had almost forgotten she had given him his card. But she also didn't think he'd come the same day. Most of her clients were spectacle and would wait a day or two.

Standing up straight, she checked herself in the small mirror next to the doorframe and nodded at her appearance. _This will do_. She cleared her throat before unlocking the door and opening it just a foot wide. She smiled softly.

"What a pleasant surprise."

Jonathan stared at her and arched an eyebrow.

"Are you going to let me in?" he asked.

"Do you have any desire to kill and mutilate my body for your sick pleasures?" she mocked his tone of voice.

Jonathan smirked slightly, not having been this amused in a while, "Not at the moment." He answered.

"Well, come in then." She nodded, stepping back and opening the door wider.

Jonathan stepped forward in his raggedy suit pants, minus the jacket tonight. He curiously glanced around the room. She knew he was curious because there was a soft yellow glow laminating around him. There were some undertones but she ignored them, yellow being the brightest at the moment. She closed the door and put the lock in and turned.

"Welcome to my home." She smiled, a little shyly.

People judged her, by how she dressed (like a teenage grunge witch wannabe), and the fact that her apartment was so cliché for a palm reader. It was small, dark, and the candles added a little extra effect. She was always nervous about how others perceived her, it was a bad trait from when she was younger and she was still trying to get over it. But at the moment, she didn't feel too much negativity towards her, and she was glad for it. He was slightly calm, although his demeanor said otherwise. His hands were in his pockets and his lips were pursed, his eyes glancing around the room.

"It smells nice." He noted.

"Well, the candles are scented and I just made coffee. Would you like some?" she asked.

Jonathan simply nodded before adding, "Three spoons of sugar, and a small drop of cream."

"Alright, just make yourself comfortable." She said and turned towards the kitchen.

There was a wall separating the two areas. But where the counter sat, there was a wide-open space in the wall. She could see Jonathan sit down on the couch, perched on the edge as he continued to look around. She started to make his coffee and as soon as she finished, she went to sit next to him on the couch after handing him the mug.

"So, when is your birthday?" she asked as she crossed her legs.

"November 16th." He answered, drinking his coffee slowly.

"So you're a Sagittarius man." She smiled, "Good, good. How much do you know about your horoscope?" she asked.

"I don't believe too much of it to be quite honest."

"Well, let's get into it then…" she grinned, "Knowledge is important to the Sagittarius man, it drives his attitude to life. They are usually interested in philosophy, religion, and the meaning of everything." She began.

Jonathan stared at her expressionless as he continued to sip on his drink.

"Sagittarius is represented by an Archer-Centaur. In Roman mythology, centaurs were wise intellectuals, and the same parallel can be drawn for you, a Sagittarius man. You must usually be a clear, logical thinker with a big picture approach to any situation. Hence, one of the reasons you're here with me tonight." She winked. "You're also an enthusiastic listening who absorbs what the other person has to say, before processing the information and coming to your own conclusions and decisions. Good so far?" she asked.

"Continue…" he nodded.

"Ruled by Jupiter, who is also the ruler of the Gods, the Sagittarius man demonstrates the flair and confidence of a born leader and is generous and just. Seeking knowledge incessantly, you have a thirst for everything that is new and unknown. This need to continue exploring means that if you don't have enough space, you will start to feel closed in and become high strung."

"How do you know so much?" he asked.

"I read. I listen. I learn. I've been studying these things for years." She shrugged. "More?"

"Since you're on a roll." He shrugged casually, mirroring her action.

"A Sagittarius man is charming and usually outgoing when in his element. Some of my personal favorite Sagittarius men would have to be Brad Pitt and Ben Stiller." She smiled.

"Do you find me charming?" he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

Genevieve leaned forward to grab her coffee mug and sip from it. "You've been awfully quiet, and observant. You haven't tried to charm me yet so I wouldn't know." She took a big gulp and licked her lips as he watched her.

**/ / J C / /**

"So what else do you know?" he asked.

"I know that you're nervous. Somewhere deep down you are, but you're not letting it show. I also think you must be a doctor. The way you look at me as if I'm some kind of patient tells me so. And the way you folded your hands down on your lap every few minutes. I'm very observant." She smiled.

Jonathan looked at her and he wasn't sure what to make of her just yet. Yes, she had been spot-on on most of the things she had said but he wasn't going to straight out tell her so. He had a little pride. He stood up suddenly and walked around the room, his hands in his pockets and he looked back at her to see her shift in her seat. Her creamy white thighs exposed under her short black dress. She could be a good distraction for the time being.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"I'm 22. What bout you?"

"30."

The girl nodded approvingly.

"What else do you know besides horoscopes?" he asked her.

"I can read palms, cards… be your personal therapist. It's what people usually come to me for." She said.

Jonathan noticed she didn't have many pictures of family around. And she lived alone. So that meant one thing; she wasn't on good terms with them. _Did she have a boyfriend?_ No. There were many things that pointed to that answer. She was alone the second time he met her now, there was no sign of a man anywhere. No shoes lying around, no cologne scents in the air other than his own, nothing. She would also, if it were subconsciously or not (he wasn't sure,) would make small flirtatious gestures at him while she spoke. She wouldn't do them otherwise. He was sure of it.

Sitting back down, he turned to her slightly.

He was very aware about the fact that she didn't recognize who he was. Either she wasn't around a few years back when he attacked the city, or… was she that oblivious to it all? He was itching to find out but he had to wait. There was so much she already seemed to know about him just by asking when his birthday was and he hardly knew anything about her other than the fact that she lived alone and was into some kind of sorcery. And that she had a black cat who at the moment strutted up to them and paused, her green eyes wide when she looked up at Jonathan. Her back started to arch slightly, in defensive posture.

A small growl emanated from the cats throat and Genevieve turned her attention away.

"Isis, be nice." The girl warned but the cat wasn't listening, she growled once more.

"You have a cat." He stated.

"I do, her name is Isis. She's… a little predatory with me. She doesn't like many people. I've had her since she was small and it's usually been just us two. So don't mind her rudeness, it's not personal." There was amusement in her voice and she reached down to scratch the cat's ear.

The cat immediately settled down and her eyes closed into slits for just a moment and as soon as Jonathan shifted in his seat, the eyes opened once again and went back to staring at him. More like glaring, if a cat could. It meowed loudly and jumped up on the kitchen counted only to perch on it and sit at the edge, watching him.

"She's going to keep an eye on you now." Genevieve said.

He had lots of eyes on him lately. What was another pair?

"So it's just you two here?"

She turned her head and nodded, "Yeah. Just us." She smiled warmly.

"What about family?" he pushed.

"Don't speak to them." She shrugged, her smile faltering.

"Boyfriend?"

"Alright Sherlock Holmes, what's with the personal questions?" She frowned slightly.

"So no boyfriend." He nodded.

"Yes, no boyfriend, okay?" There was a fiery spark in her eyes now as she stood and her hands clenched at her sides.

Jonathan nodded again and stood once more.

"I must be going now. I have… things that need to get done." He said.

"Things? What the hell is there to get done in this ghost city? The only people that are ever out doing something are…" she stopped mid-sentence and he watched as she arched an eyebrow at him.

"We can re-schedule. I'll be seeing you soon Miss Genevieve." He smiled lightly as he headed for the front door.

**/ / GC / /**

Genevieve stared at the door he had just walked out through and her mouth dropped open slightly.

_What the hell was that?_ She thought.

Jonathan had said he had work to do… the only people that were out in the streets or working at all from what she knew were Bane's followers and they were all criminals and lunatics. Was he a criminal? She wasn't sure. She'd find out sooner or later.


	3. Chapter 3

Some very slightly… ahem… mature content way below. If you don't wish to read it, skip over towards the end part. There's going to be these: **/ * /** just skip over the first set and find the second, then it's safe to read again. :) ;) But also, this story is rated M so i you're not into any sort of mature thing well... what ARE YOU DOING READING THIS BYE. Jk. Stick around please. Also, reviews would be lovely :)

* * *

Genevieve woke up one morning with a bad feeling.

When she turned on the news she knew why.

Bane had made a broadcast about how there was no hope for anyone in this city and the bomb had four months before it would go off. Time was ticking. And he also mentioned how every bridge in the city had bombs of their own implanted in them. A few had already tried getting off the island but died trying. He made it clear no one was to try that again. There was also another broadcast on the news from the President of the United States about how he still hasn't forgotten them and was keeping Gotham in his thoughts and heart.

"Oh for the love of…" Genevieve stood, turning her TV off.

_What a load of bullshit._

_We're going to die in four months and there's no way to get off of this city._

That was the reality of it.

Heading to the kitchen she picked up Isis' food bowl and went into the pantry to scoop out some food from the large bag. Thankfully she had stocked up on things before all of this had happened. She set the food bowl back in its place and headed to the shower. After an hour, she got out and did her hair and dressed in knee high black socks and a black and grey raglan dress. She wanted to be comfy today. As she finished the last of her make up (not even banishment from the streets would stop her from looking nice,) she heard a knock at the door.

Checking through the peephole, she saw it was Jonathan.

It had been two weeks since she last saw him.

Two weeks of being alone and with no one to talk to other than her cat.

She opened the door and smiled softly.

"Hi."

"Hello." He nodded.

He was dressed in the same outfit as their last meeting, only this time there was a large black coat over him and an umbrella at his side.

"You must be freezing, sorry come in." she said quickly, backing up.

When he came in, he shrugged his coat off and set it on the coat hanger along with the umbrella.

"Were you going out today?" he asked.

Genevieve blushed slightly, "No, but just because our city is under attack by a crazy ass terrorist, it doesn't mean I'm not going to let myself look nice."

"Your hair straight makes you look younger." He noted.

Subconsciously she touched her hair, "Oh. Um, thank you… I guess. Your… coat is nice." She mentally slapped herself and he smirked.

"Okay sorry, you're here for something. There's a red glow around you, you're mad at something. You're here for a distraction I'm guessing?" she said, standing back.

Jonathan stared at her with a slightly baffled look, but he quickly composed himself.

"Yes, you're right once again. I'm starting to wonder maybe you _are _the real deal and not a fraud like so many out there." He said.

Genevieve scoffed, "I am not a fraud. There's many different ways I can show you. For one, we've never met so I know nothing about your life or who you were. Speaking of, I can possibly explain your future, so if you'd like I can read your palm."

Jonathan shrugged, "Let's get to it then."

They sat on the couch, in her dimly lit living room. She sat on his left and she out stretched her hand. He stared at her and she rolled her eyes. "Give me your hand."

Jonathan paused for a moment before handing her his hand. She took it gently and felt the top. It was slightly rough, calloused. She turned it over and felt his bony knuckles and slim fingers. She turned it once more and then closed her eyes as she laced her fingers through his. His hand was tense, most likely due to the fact that he'd probably never had someone feel up his hand before. She laughed to herself. She bit her lip when she noticed just how nicely her fingers sat between his. She gripped his hand tightly and held it on her lap for a moment.

"Okay…" she started, opening her eyes. "You're definitely a hard worker. That much I can tell, not even having to hold your hand. You have a small burn mark, from years ago I'm guessing, it's faded. Which brings me back to the fact that you must have been a doctor. Or a scientist… maybe a chemist? Any ways, let's take a look at your lines…" she said.

Jonathan watched her with curiosity the whole while. She let his hand rest on her lap still, and she looked down at it. Tracing the patterns for a moment, she nodded to herself.

"I'm using your left hand because it's what you were born with, and your right hand is what you've accumulated throughout your life so far. For girls, it's the opposite. We all, or well most all have four major lines;" she said as she began to trace the deep lines in his palms, "the heart line, the head line, the life line and the fate line, which actually not a lot of people have." She looked up to see if he was paying attention and he was.

"Your heart line, which is pretty self explanatory, stops just under your middle finger, which means you're selfish when it comes to love. But, it's slightly broken here… that means there's been some emotional trauma." She said and his hand twitched as if he was going to take it back away. "She held onto it gently and continued, "Moving on, the head line. It represents learning styles, communication approach, intellectualism, and thirst for knowledge. You have a long, straight line, which usually means your way of thinking is just realistically. There's another little fault here which means maybe, there's sometimes also some inconsistencies in thought." She looked up and smiled, "Good so far?"

"I'm impressed." He nodded, "Please continue."

"Your life line here near your thumb I actually can't tell… it's broken and doesn't start near your thumb, it's just small and kind of there. It doesn't mean your dying soon or anything, it has nothing to do with your length of life, but I'm not sure what to tell you about it." She said, biting her lip for a moment, "But your fate line does start right where the life line ends… so you've developed aspirations early on. You're a self-made individual."

"That's for sure." He snorted, slightly uncharacteristically.

"Your fingers are also… really nice. And long." She said, biting her lip, trying to rid herself of her naughty thoughts. Which makes me wonder again, what do you… or did you do?" she asked.

"I was a professor. I taught Psychology for a year and then I went into psychopharmacology and became a psychiatrist." He said easily.

"I knew it!" she grinned, squeezing his hand and when she noticed this, she quickly let go.

Jonathan smirked, touching her cheek gently, "You definitely are very observant. Aren't you."

Genevieve's smile faltered as she bit her lip.

"What do you think I'm feeling right now?" he asked.

Genevieve hadn't noticed the shift in aura change. She had been too busy congratulating herself on what a great job she did reading his palm. It wasn't always that easy (although she stumbled a bit on his lifeline, but she did well.) Now, she hadn't noticed how the red had changed and his aura was a soft orange glow. He was… aroused?

"You're either really turned on because I was touching you or…"

"I think you're a beautiful girl, so please don't be offended when I do this…" he leaned in and gently took her face, his lips ghosted over hers momentarily before they touched hers.

Genevieve let her eyes closed as she involuntarily leaned into his touch and kissed him back. It was a soft, gentle kiss, but when they parted, she looked into his eyes with her suddenly lust-filled ones. They were bright and excited and glittering hazel.

Without another thought, she pushed him back against the couch and straddled his lap and his hands immediately went to her hips. She leaned in and took his glasses off, tossing them gently behind her to the coffee table and grabbing his face, going down and kissing his lips hotly. Her hips bucked up and into him. There was a quiet moan that escaped her and she moved slowly on top of him. She detached her lips from his for only a moment to catch a quick breath of air and he leaned up and kissed her neck a few times, trailing down before he sucked on her skin. His fingers went up her dress and squeezed the back of her thighs, and trailed up.

**/ * /**

Without permission, he yanked her panties down and she let out a startled gasp.

"I bet you'd like to see what else I can do with these nice, long fingers." He breathed into her ear and her eyes snapped open when he pushed her down on the couch and shoved his hand under her dress, rubbing the already slick lips of her pussy.

"What would you like me to do with them, Genevieve?" he asked her in a hushed tone that set her on edge.

"It's… just Gen." she said quietly, looking up at him.

The tip of his hair fell over his forehead, and from this angle his usually bright blue eyes seemed darker.

"Gen," he tested, leaning down to kiss her lips. "What do you want these fingers to do?" he asked.

"Just… do it already." She said as she grabbed onto his shirt.

"Do what?" he asked, teasing her by slipping his thumb in and rubbing around.

There was this fire in her, this desire, this _need_. She _needed_ this to happen. She had been so long without being touched that it was so overwhelming. He had to stop teasing her. Her leg brushed against him and she could feel how hard he was and it was enough to driver her over the edge already and he had only one finger in her, slowly rubbing circles over her clit.

"I'm waiting," he whispered, kissing under her ear.

"Just do something, fuck me already, finger me, I don't care!" she breathed out feistily.

Jonathan smirked as he shoved two fingers in and began to pump them in and out.

"Fuck." She moaned, holding onto his side with one hand and the other grabbing the couch tightly. "Just so you know, I don't normally do this with all my clients." She said as she moaned.

Why did she feel the need to justify herself to this guy, she thought.

"I believe you, don't worry." Jonathan grinned as he shut her up by kissing her mouth once again.

**/ * /**

Genevieve wasn't sure what time she woke up, but it was dark out when she did. The lights in her apartment were all off, and the blinds in her room were closed, but no light was coming through at all. She thought about the previous hours and she rubbed her forehead, noticing she had nothing on but her bra. She'd never been that easy to bed. Never. Maybe it was because she was so sexually frustrated and deprived. Also, Jonathan was sort of handsome. She just felt weird for how quickly it all happened.

Standing up, slightly sore she might add, she headed over to one of her drawers and slipped on a long shirt and walked out to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water.

When she turned the kitchen light on, she noticed that sitting there on the white countertop was an upright folded note.

Raising an eyebrow, she picked it up and opened it. Inside was one simple, elegantly written sentence:

_**Do I owe you for double service now?**_

_Haha_, she thought.

_Very funny._

Folding the note back up, she set it back down on the counter and grabbed herself a glass and poured it to the top with water. She had insisted over an over again to him that she usually never did something like that. That she never slept with her clients, ever. He'd silence her by making her moan or kissing her. After taking a few gulps, she sighed. Isis made her way into the room, staring around cautiously. As if making sure that Jonathan had really left. She tried to hold in her laughter remembering how frantic her cat had been when they burst into the room, disrupting her nap. Isis almost hurt herself trying to scramble off the bed and out of the room as fast as she could.

"Hey there little lady, I'm sorry about earlier." She said quietly, bending down and scratching her cat's head.

The cat was annoyed, that much she could tell but she stood there, not missing a chance at being paid attention to. Having her head scratched was a plus. Gen smiled and scratched her ears and stood up once again.

There was a small feeling in her chest; like things were definitely going to get more interesting around here now.


End file.

Batman Begins/Dark Knight, Romance, Supernatural